Outerlands is the kind of restaurant that you dream about stumbling upon. Ironically, I've lived in the Bay Area for years now and I just recently met a friend at Outerlands for the first time. And then went back. And then went back again. It's the kind of place you don't want to tell too many people about but at the same time you can't stop gushing anytime someone asks you where they should eat in they city. And so it's come to be, quickly: Outerlands is my favorite restaurant in San Francisco. Hands down.

I've noticed a funny thing happens when I try to explain why I love Outerlands to people. I become vague. There are hand gestures and lots of "seriously, just trust me's." You walk in the front door and feel immediately at home in the space and at home in the neighborhood that is the Outer Sunset. The restaurant itself has beautiful salvaged fence-wood walls, a long bar with tangled driftwood pieces hanging here and there, and a small smattering of tables. All of this adds up to an undeniably warm and rustic ambiance. It reminds me, in that way, of Big Sur Bakery. There aren't many restaurants around that make you feel so comfortable and so at home so quickly.

Outerlands on a Cool August Evening

If you're not familiar with the Outer Sunset neighborhood, it's s a foggy little enclave pretty far removed from downtown San Francisco--not necessarily in miles but in mood and certainly in weather patterns. It's a hop away from Ocean Beach and hosts a few other great spots to check out, including Trouble Coffee,Polly Ann Ice Cream and Devil's Teeth Baking Company. There are surf shops, music shops, bigger apartments, and wider streets. And there's bread. Oh, is there ever bread.

You can't talk about the food at Outerlands until you mention the bread. David Muller and Lana Porcello set out to open a warm, inviting cafe with simple, beautiful food and Muller's bread is very much at the centerpiece of that. He learned the technique for his Levain loaf from Tartine's Chad Robertson, and I think it actually differs a great deal (in a good way). Muller's loaves are dark on the outside with a surprisingly tender crumb on the inside. They somehow straddle the line between the best sourdough you've ever tasted and a really nice loaf of whole-wheat bread. The folks at Outerlands serve it in fat wedges alongside soups and salads. It's also, obviously, the foundation of many a sandwich. Or order it straight up with a bit of homemade butter or Cowgirl Creamery Mount Tam cheese. I'm not sure it gets much better than that.

Broccoli Soup and a Glance at the Menu

While I can't speak to the brunch at Outerlands, I can say that I've heard rumors that the Dutch pancake and the open-faced egg sandwich are worth traveling distances for. Dinner is similarly worth traveling for. What to order? Every time I've eaten at Outerlands I always order soup. It's something they do very, very well and fits perfectly into any meal whether you're at a cozy indoor table or under the heat lamps outside. The first time I ordered a potato leek soup that our waiter mentioned he'd made that night with a bunch of different odds and ends they had in the kitchen (a little of this, a little of that). He was very proud of it; I couldn't not order it. The soup was exquisite. So when I returned recently, I ordered the broccoli soup which was equally fantastic. Not at all too creamy or heavy. We sopped up the remaining few spoonfuls with a hunk of bread and butter. That, in and of itself, could be a lovely little meal.

Beyond the soup and bread though, there are a few different ways to approach dining at Outerlands. I generally share a few small plates with my dining partner although you could certainly go the more traditional entree route as well. Their salads are all simple and beautiful. They generally have one featuring bitter greens which I love and appreciate, but which-- I've learned--not everyone feels the same way about. On a recent trip, I had a wonderful mustard greens salad with figs and walnuts. We also ordered the local sardines with quinoa and pole bean salad served with tomato jam. The menu changes often, but you can always count on a soup, a few salads, special side plates, and a few more substantial entrees and seasonal desserts.

Outerlands opens for dinner at 6 p.m.; the list begins filling up promptly at that time. If you don't feel like waiting (although I find waiting and lingering around the block to be quite lovely), plan on getting there close to 6. They have a nice, small beer and wine list in addition to their new-ish cocktail program that begins at 6 p.m. and runs until 10:45. The three nightly drinks all feature a different spirit. For example, the night I was there recently, they were serving tequila, rum, and gin-based cocktails--all with interesting herb and botanical complements that make actually choosing just one rather difficult. After dinner, be sure to order a pot of Sightglass coffee to share with your tablemate.

After-Dinner Coffee from Sightglass

Each time I've been to Outerlands I've run into an old friend. The first time I was there it happened to be an old high school friend I hadn't seen for years. Most recently, it was a writing friend that lives up in Portland. Both times we hugged each other and stared in shock, asking one another what the heck we were doing. And both times, the answer was a silent look around the room, a look back at one another, and a nod in recognition that there really couldn't be a better place to spend an evening in San Francisco.

Outerlands
Address: Map
4001 Judah Street
San Francisco, CA 94122
Phone: (415) 661-6140
Hours: Tues.-Sat. Lunch: 11am-3pm; Dinner: 6pm-10pm
Sunday Brunch: 10am-2:30pm
Closed Sunday evenings and all day Monday

The Nom Nom Truck.
All Photos courtesy of Nom Nom Truck

It’s amazing what a reality show can do for your food truck.

Second place finishers on the Food Network’s "The Great Food Truck Race" and Los Angeles food truck staple, Nom Nom, have spread their love to the Bay Area.

Co-owners Jennifer Green and Misa Chien met during their time at UCLA. It was also during that time that they realized they could fill a niche in the growing food truck scene.

Nom Nom Truck owners: Jennifer Green and Misa Chien.

“It started in 2009 when we had a lot of Kogi BBQ trucks around the UCLA campus and their popularity grew out of nowhere,” says Jennifer. “I made a lot of Vietnamese food for my friends on a regular basis and I realized the lack of Vietnamese restaurants in the West LA area. Then it clicked.”

Green and Chien chose the classic Vietnamese baguette sandwich, banh mi, as their truck’s specialty not only because there was a lack of places that served it in their area, but because it’s easy to eat.

“It’s portable, it’s fast and has a fresh taste that you can’t get from a burrito or hamburger,” states Jennifer. “The great thing is that we can also put a little bit of our gourmet twist on it too. One of the most traditional banh mi ingredients is grilled pork and I grill it with honey, which is a little different than the traditional. We also have Lemongrass Chicken and Vietnamese tacos, which are like a banh mi in your hand.”

“We also work with Le Boulanger to have our bread baked especially for us from a recipe I worked really hard on.”

Deli Banh Mi sandwich.

Indeed, the perfectly crusty on the outside, pillowy on the inside French bread roll is key to a good banh mi, and it was the highlight of the sandwich when I got a chance to sample their Honey Grilled Pork version. The pickled carrots and daikon that topped the sandwich were flavored well and super fresh, but I wish I’d gotten more of them to create more of a textural and taste contrast to the sweet pork. And I missed the lack of fish sauce flavor that brings it all together.

All in all, it seemed like something similar enough to what I could get in a Vietnamese Mom and Pop shop. So what’s the big deal?

First, the size of this sandwich is double the size of one you’d get at a typical brick and mortar. Coming in at 12 inches long, it’s a torpedo of a dish. But more importantly, Nom Nom is obviously trying to appealing to those who have never had a banh mi before.

“It’s exciting to see how many people who have never had one before try it and see their reaction, says Misa. “It’s like an introduction to Vietnamese food for those who have never had it. We’re appealing to the American palate.”

Lemongrass Chicken Tacos

Their popularity has grown steadily, peaking when they started showing up on the Food Network reality show.

“We went into it wanting an adventure and it was a great way to expose our truck to a larger audience. People totally embraced us and it was great to see that feedback,” says Misa. “To see a small town embrace a food dish they’d never tasted like banh mi was a great experience.”

“We were bummed we came in second, but deep down we had to tell each other it was just a reality show. And the great thing was that we won the chance to travel and it was amazing,” says Jennifer.

Nom Nom recently acquired their third food truck and their next move was up north…at least for Misa.

“We decided on San Francisco because it’s a real foodie town and it’s been a dream of mine, personally to live up here,” she says. “We have two trucks in LA and one in San Francisco, now. I’m not complaining that I had to move up here! And the response has been great. People up here come to the truck, whereas in LA, you have to go to the people. They’re a little lazier down there.”

For now, Green and Chien don’t have any other plans to expand. “We have three babies right now and we’re focused on them,” says Jennifer.

For two women fresh out of college, running several food trucks in two major cities can be a challenge, but their goals are clear.

Misa says, “At the end of the day, we want to make people happy through our food. And as employers we want to hire staff that will work together to create an amazing company and work environment. Plus I get to build a great business with my best friend!”

Nom Nom
Twitter: @nomnomtrucksf
Facebook: Nom Nom Truck SF
Various locations throughout the Bay Area (no regular schedule)

Photo: Wendy Goodfriend

Check, Please! Bay Area Season 6: episode 5 airs Thursday September 8 at 7:30pm on KQED TV 9. View other airtimes and channels.

You can watch individual restaurant segments as well as view the entire episode online. The website also provides restaurant information not specified on the show, written reviews from the guests and restaurant recipes. If you have opinions on the restaurants featured please feel free to share your thoughts. This season, Leslie Sbrocco will be sharing wine tips with each episode.

The fifth episode of the season features these restaurants: Paxti's Pizza (San Francisco), Mercury Lounge (San Francisco) and Trueburger (Oakland).

Leslie Sbrocco: Wine Tips -- Pairing Wine and Food (Chips + Bubbles)

What's on your locavore's barbecue this Labor Day weekend? A slab of beef tri-tip, our favorite regional cut, sliced and nestled up to a stack of red torpedo onions and dry-farmed Early Girl tomatoes sounds mighty tasty. If you prefer fish, try a side of grilled sockeye or king salmon topped with this easy corn relish. And to start, what captures the taste of our unique coastal landscape than a a platter of oysters plucked from the salt-sweet estuaries of Tomales Bay or Point Reyes?

You can shuck and serve them raw, with nothing more than a squirt of lemon and a shake of hot sauce, or get a little more fancy with a saucer of mignonette sauce. Mignonette may sound lah-di-dah, but it's nothing more than a tart dunk of minced shallot, black pepper, and champagne vinegar. At its popular restaurant and oyster bar in the Ferry Building, the Hog Island Oyster Company has California-ized this French classic into a "Hog Wash" of shallot, minced jalapeno, cilantro, and both seasoned and plain rice vinegar. Or you can raise a toast to a particularly local tradition and barbecue them right on the grill. No shucking required; just place oysters, flat side up, on a hot grill until the shells pop open. Off the heat, remove the top shell, loosen the oyster within with a quick swipe of an oyster knife, and top with your favorite barbecue sauce. You can return the oysters to the grill for a minute or two to heat the sauce through. Whatever you do, the oysters will be sexy and succulent, with a clean ocean taste like the first fresh slap of a wave against your face.

Once your appetite is whetted, you might want to know more about these intriguing little bivalves, so rich in history and lore. Oyster Culture by Gwendolyn Meyer and Doreen Schmid, is a great place to start. Illustrated with Meyer's beautiful, evocative black-and-white and color photographs as well as historical documents and pictures, the book, published by Petaluma's Cameron Press, delves into the history and ecology of the local oyster industry. How did the book happen? Via email, Meyer told us,

"The book evolved from a photo essay on how oysters are farmed on one farm into the bigger story of oyster farming out here in West Marin. I started shooting grainy black and white film images back in 2001 out on the water and the gritty grainy look captured the hard working farmers on the bay on its foggy overcast cold windy days. The Tomales Bay is a special and unique place, one of the few clean estuariane systems left in California. The water-based farms fascinated me, and being out on the bay was captivating. Getting to know some of the people involved with oysters here and the history of the east shore-- I realized that there was a story that hadn't been told.

Photos from Oyster Culture copyright Gwendolyn Meyer

People in California have been eating oysters for centuries. Archaeological digs at Coast Miwok campsites have revealed piles of oyster, mussel, and clam shells. The native oyster of California's indigenous peoples and first settlers was the small, coppery-tasting Olympia oyster, Ostreo lurida. It has since been replaced, first by Atlantic varieties shipped in from the East Coast, then, since the 1930s, by Japanese Pacific varieties like the Miyagi and the Kumamoto. At first, commercial oyster farming was concentrated in San Francisco Bay, but as silt and pollution threatened the beds, the oyster companies looked north, to the more pristine estuaries of Tomales Bay and the Point Reyes peninsula. Oysters thrive in flat tidal estuaries where the river meets the sea, as part of a very particular coastal ecology. Once railways were established, linking the once-remote hamlets of West Marin to San Francisco and the surrounding towns, local aquaculture took off. As Oyster Culture notes, "For a brief moment in the 1950s, Tomales Bay was the largest oyster producer in California. Today, it is the state's smallest production area, but home of its oldest oyster farm and last oyster-canning factory, at Drakes Bay Estero."

Using an attractive and inviting layout, Oyster Culture explores both the natural and cultural histories of oysters, oyster farming, and oyster-eating around the Bay Area. At an early age, left to its own devices, an oyster attaches itself permanently to whatever solid surface it can find. Raising oysters is more like farming, or raising livestock, than fishing, since the oysters stay where they're planted. Marin's oyster companies, including Hog Island, Tomales Bay Oyster Company, Point Reyes Oyster Company, Cove Mussel Company, the Marin Oyster Company, and Drakes Bay Oyster Company (formerly Johnson's Oyster Farm), have evolved their own systems for raising and growing their oysters, each producing slightly different results. Along with ranching and farming, the oyster industry makes up a significant part of Marin's agricultural history and current agricultural and aquaculture-based economy. As Meyer told us,

"What was striking to me was how involved and familiar with every aspect of oysters everyone who works with them is, from the oyster bar shuckers to the farmers. There is a wealth of information about the oyster, and people who work with oysters know so much. Everyone in the industry has a particular philosophy about how they grow. Their understanding of the bay and the water and the environment they work in is impressive. I think a memorable story comes from Jorge out at Drakes Bay. Jorge has worked on the water for 30-plus years at Drakes Bay, for the Lunny family and the Johnsons before them. One early morning, he and Kevin Lunny got disoriented in the fog out on the estero. The fog blanketed out any recognizable features and they got didn’t know which way was home. They mistook the light on shore for that of a boat and headed away from it towards the ocean, which could have been disastrous. Fortunately, they managed to figure it out and didn’t head out to sea.

The story reminded me how even experienced [oyster] farmers with years of working on the same body of water are at the mercy of changing conditions. It may look calm and protected out there on the bay and estero, but it’s a landscape very much affected by many influences, both natural and man-made. I think the environment keeps farmers constantly on their toes.

Eat a local oyster, and you're supporting local jobs, something that makes putting oysters on the menu particularly appropriate for Labor Day. It's cold, wet work, tending to the rough-shelled babies out in the Bay, scrubbing and shucking, but it's an industry with deep roots, one that both provides jobs and presents a model for how for-profit agricultural businesses can work within protected parklands. "Because Tomales Bay is part of the Gulf of the Farallones National Marine Sanctuary, the farm [Hog Island], like all those within this sanctuary, works with over twenty agencies that manage land use and water quality in and around the Bay," the authors write. Says Hog Island co-owner Terry Sawyer, "None of this would be here without the Point Reyes National Seashore--we all owe a huge debt to its creation."

Now that she's an oyster expert, what oyster does Meyer prefer?

"Lately I’m particularly fond of the Tomales Bay Oyster Company's golden nuggets. They are beautiful oysters that are tumbled, not grown on the bottom, and because of this their shells are really pretty. The oyster itself is a deep-cupped, plump, rich tasting and perfect-looking oyster -- really a delicacy. I believe TBOC is the only farm doing tumbled bags on the bays. I prefer them freshly shucked, on the half shell with a squeeze of lemon. I like their briny taste of the ocean and want the full flavor of that, especially as we come into the winter months when they are at their prime.

Recipe: Oysters with Chorizo Sauce

Summary: This recipe, adapted from the book Oyster Culture by Gwendolyn Marks and Doreen Schmid, comes from the kitchen of The Marshall Store, a popular seafood restaurant on the eastern side of Tomales Bay.

From the Marshall Store

Oysters with Chorizo Sauce. Photo copyright Gwendolyn Meyer

Prep time: 10 minutes, plus 1 hour's chilling time
Cook time: 5 minutes
Total time: 15 minutes, plus 1 hour's chilling time
Yield: 24 oysters, serves 6

Ingredients

1/4 lb fresh Mexican-style chorizo sausage, removed from casing
1 cup (8 oz) unsalted butter, softened
2 tbsp finely chopped parsley
24 oysters

Instructions

1. Soften butter at room temperature. Saute chorizo until thoroughly cooked, then crumble. Place in refrigerator to cool.

2. Place butter in a small bowl and break up with a wooden spoon. Add cooled chorizo and mix thoroughly. Add parsley. Place the mixture in the middle of a sheet of waxed paper. Roll into a 2-inch wide log, twist ends shut, and chill in the refrigerator until firm.

3. Prepare a gas or charcoal grill. While grill is heating, shuck oysters and leave in shells. When grill is hot, top each opened oyster with a thin slice of butter cut from roll. Cover and cook just until the butter starts to bubble.

Note: If you don't have an outdoor grill, these oysters can also be cooked under the broiler. To broil, cover an ovenproof plate or platter with a layer of slightly moistened rock salt about 1 inch deep. Set oysters, in shells, on the rock salt, making sure they are level. Top each oyster with a thin slice of chorizo butter. Broil just until the butter starts to bubble.

Chef John Fink at Heritage Fire. Photo: Laiko Bahrs

• Juicy Loins, Tender Rumps
• Bacon, the Gateway Meat
• Needs Salt
• Smells Good in Here
• Ms. Delicious
• Pigs are Magic

And let's not forget my very favorite bit of meat geekery, Bacon Gives Me a Lardon.

What is it about studly-butcher culture that loves a pun? (The fondness for bacon needs no explanation.) Whatever it is about long days spent with a knife and cleaver, or all-nighters tending the smoky maw of the barbecue pit, the t-shirt slogans that result are always worth wearing. Especially if you've stained it, proudly, with the ducky goodness dripping off something as mind-bendingly awesome as a handmade duck hot dog piled high with duck confit, chicharrones, diced duck egg and duck foie gras.

Sausages from Smoakville. Photo: Laiko Bahrs

But even if, like me, you arrived just a little too late to snatch up one of those already legendary duck dogs, there was plenty of meat for the munching on offer at last Saturday's Cochon Heritage Fire in St. Helena. Cochon 555, the parent organization, is known for its celebrity chef spectacles celebrating the pig across the country ("cochon" is French for "pig"). But once a year, in Napa, the all-pig menu is diversified to celebrate heritage breeds of beef, lamb, goat, and poultry, many of which are staked whole and slow-cooked outdoors over a wood fire.

Perhaps the setting--the shady emerald lawn, complete with fountain, fairy lights and gazebo, of the very posh Charles Krug winery--inspired a little more decorum in this year's organizers and chefs. Participants couldn't really wander from roasting goat to spitted feet-dangling chickens as they could at last year's slightly more rustic event (then called Primal Napa). Whole beasts were definitely being cooked, but their funkier bits weren’t so much in evidence. No pumpkins filled with pork liver, no skewers of heart, no smoky lamb jawbones (tongues included) for Neanderthal gnawing. The offerings were a little more restaurant-refined, the gluttony a little less greasy. The butchering demos, by Dave the Butcher (Marina Meats, the pork happy hour at Fatted Calf) and Joshua Applestone (Fleisher’s), were held upstairs at the tasting room, not with the meaty carcasses strung up on a rock-star stage in the middle of the feast.

Whole animals cooking at Heritage Fire. Photo: Laiko Bahrs

That said, the meats on offer were absolutely delicious. What did I love best, the pink, tender slices of lamb cupped in Boston lettuce leaves with fresh mint and pickled red onion, or the succulent Indian-spiced lamb masala patties? The crackling skin sliced off the enormous chanterelle-stuffed porchetta, as good as any I’ve had at farmers' markets in Italy? The moist chunks of fennel-rubbed rabbit? John Fink of the Whole Beast's treyf special, roasted tandoori-spiced goat with goat yogurt? The snappy, ruddy Italian sausages from Smoakville BBQ in Napa? The long, slow chew of Woodlands Pork's country Mountain Ham, made from forest-reared, terroir-expressing pigs rooting through the hollers of West Virginia? According to Woodlands' Irish-born president and ham obsessive Nicholas Heckett, this is no dainty appetizer ham. Said Heckett, "I like it after dinner, with whiskey and a fine cigar." The finish is so long, and the taste so concentrated and intense, he explains, that it would knock out any less robust entrée to follow. Like the famous French chef Joel Robuchon, who frequently included a plate of utterly unadorned jamon iberico as part of his tasting menus, Heckett staunchly believes that high-quality ham needs no adornments. (Then again, Robuchon, sad man, has probably never had a warm Southern-made buttermilk biscuit, split and stuffed with slivers of country ham and a dab of homemade peach chutney.)

Rabbit menu from Heritage Fire. Photo: Laiko Bahrs

We end up, as one does at these events, lying under the trees, drinking wine out of GoVino’s reusable plastic cups (picture a Riedel stemless wine glass, reimagined for picnicking), conjuring up the outrageousness of meats past. "Remember those bacon eclairs?" says one friend, dreamily. They were thumb-sized, she said, filled with something bacon-fatty, with a crunchy slice of bacon on top, where the chocolate glaze would otherwise go. Another friend toyed with recipe ideas for the twine-wrapped package of lamb liver that he’d begged off the crew doing the lamb butchering demonstration, using a whole lamb from local Stemple Creek. (The various cuts of meat from each demo were raffled off at the end of the evening.)

This being a chef event, the eating and drinking had to continue at an after-party held down the street at Farmstead. And naturally, there had to be a fire, in this case a roaring bonfire built in the sand pit out back by Heather Shouse, a red-headed, Southern-twanged food writer on hand from Chicago. Shouse, the author of Food Trucks: Dispatches and Recipes from the Best Kitchens on Wheels, is criss-crossing the country as a Cochon camp follower as she works on an upcoming Cochon cookbook. Before becoming a writer, "I worked in restaurants all my life," she said, and she has the tattoo sleeves to prove it. One chef brought out a plate of salmon he'd smoked the day before; another crew arrived bearing a deep hotel pan filled with bite-sized chunks of pork, juicy and sweet, carved off the last animal left over the coals. A bright full moon shone down. There was meat, beer, cigars, and a ring of sweaty, smoky men and women kicking back after doing what they do best: taking care of the people who love to eat.

Wine Lands 2011.
All Photos: Wendy Goodfriend

In the hit song, "California One," indie rock band, "The Decemberists," pay homage to the grape with the line, "Take a long drown with me of California wine." The fact that the band appreciates a good bottle of wine makes sense once you find out every member carries a Zagat iPhone app for culinary guidance on long road trips. This band appears right at home at a festival like Outside Lands where food and wine vendors seem to share top billing with the music line up.

Decemberists at Outside Lands 2011. Photo by Wendy Goodfriend

Outside Lands gourmet fare is a far cry from rock concerts of yesteryear where the best one could hope for was a warm draft beer and a lousy hot dog. Beer might have a history with young people and big, outdoor events but this weekend micro-brews took a back seat to local, small lot wineries. By late Saturday afternoon the line was more than fifteen people deep as I waited for a taste of 2009 Mendocino Pinot Noir from Navarro. As usual, Navarro did not disappoint. While in line I overheard the following conversation, "That is such a butterball, you should really check out Wind Gap, their wines are so balanced." Am I at a rock concert?

Wind Gap wine booth at Wine Lands. Photo by Wendy Goodfriend

The idea of Wine Lands, which has now grown to thirty artisanal wineries and one hundred wines all under one big open-air tent, is the brainchild of Peter Eastlake. Eastlake is co-owner of Vintage Berkeley, a wine shop that focuses on small production wines -- most under twenty five dollars. Eastlake believes that wine and, well, nearly everything go together. He even had some favorite pairings for this year’s music line up.

Peter Eastlake. Photo by Wendy Goodfriend

Phish:

For Phish, give me something lunar, hippie and refreshing for all that spinning, scooping and dumping. Bonny Doon's biodynamic spaceship adorned 2010 Vin Gris de Cigare all the way.

Erykah Badu:

When Erykah Badu sings, people listen. She’s a strong woman with a vocal range that can howl, scream, screech and make you cry. There is one wine for her show, and it rhymes with pink bubbles, Gloria Ferrer Blanc De Noirs.

The Roots:

These Philly boys are so versatile, funky and flat out likeable. Our man in Sebastopol, bass player Les Claypool, is pouring his spicy GSM blend called Purple Pachyderm.

Phish at Outside Lands 2011. Photo by Wendy Goodfriend

Oh, let's not forget the other star of the show, the food. This year's Outside Lands included more than fifty local restaurants and food trucks and asked Eastlake for a couple of suggestions for pairings. For the Mac and Cheese from Oakland's Homeroom, Eastlake recommends a California Chardonnay like Hess Collection, Hirsch Estate for a special treat or Lioco's 2010 Sonoma County on tap.

I thought I was going to stump him when I asked about the very popular Fabulous Frickle Brothers fried pickles. Without blinking, Eastlake said, "It's a little known fact that deep fried pickled gherkins are only found in two places in the world -- Tennessee and Germany's Mosel River. Summer of Riesling. If you don't like Riesling, try the Riesling."

Fabulous Frickle Brothers' Frickles. Photo by Wendy Goodfriend

Paul Grieco, owner of Terroir wine bar in New York, is on tour. He is traveling around the country in a Winnebago preaching the gospel of Riesling. Grieco wants people to know Riesling is lots of things including, not always sweet. Says Grieco, who even has a Riesling tattoo along his forearm, "Riesling is the best grape in the world." I tried the 2009 Toni Jost and liked it a lot.

Press Conference at Outside Lands 2011. Damien Kulash of OK Go, Thomas McNaughton - Salumeria by flour + water, Sommelier Paul Grieco - Summer of Riesling tour. Photo by Wendy Goodfriend.

Although Eastlake curated all of the wines under the tent, star sommelier Rajat Parr picked a few for the VIP tents including: Kermit Lynch's Bandol Rose, Qupe's Syrah and Navarro's Pinot Noir. Parr was also pouring his own brand at Wine Lands.

Sandhi wine booth at Wine Lands. Photo by Wendy Goodfriend

Sandhi Wines is a boutique winery focusing on the grapes of Santa Barbara. Parr makes a Chardonnay and a Pinot Noir. The Pinot is elegant, complex and superb. Parr uses only native yeasts in his wines, part of a trend toward a more natural way of making wines. Taking this effort several steps further is Natural Process Alliance which also had a booth at Wine Lands.

NPA is minimalist winemaking which, briefly, includes: Sustainable vineyard management, organic grapes, native yeasts and very little to no added sulfur. NPA delivers natural wine in reusable stainless steel canisters to restaurants and wine bars within a one hundred mile radius of their Santa Rosa cellar. Like kegs, NPA stays clear of corks and heavy glass bottles. I tried the 2010 Chalk Hill Pinot Gris. It was not my favorite but I appreciated the unique, flavorful taste.

Kermit Lynch booth at Wine Lands. Photo by Wendy Goodfriend

I thought it was kind of cool to see legendary importer Kermit Lynch hosting a booth at Wine Lands. This was their first foray into the world of big outdoor events and would probably do it again in an effort to attract a new generation of drinkers. My favorite Kermit Lynch Wine that day was a 2010 Bandol Terebrune Rose. I found it spicy and herbaceous.

Chris Hall, VP & GM of Long Meadow Ranch at Wine Lands. Photo by Wendy Goodfriend

The big winner for me at Wine Lands this year was wine on tap from Long Meadow Ranch. Besides, being eco-friendly and less pricy, the wine tastes just as good as if it was in a bottle. I tried Long Meadow’s 2010 Sauvignon Blanc, poured through a stainless steel tap. It was vibrant and crisp with a little of what seemed like effervescence. I thought it must be the keg but, no, that’s their Sauvignon Blanc. Delicious. Personally, I think the keg is a winner but winemakers are still trying to decouple it from the image of frat parties. Maybe hip, rock musicians can help lead the way. Rumor has it band members from MGMT were seen hanging out at the Long Meadow booth sipping on a 2009 draft Cabernet blend.

MGMT at Outside Lands 2011. Photo by Wendy Goodfriend

Related posts:
• Outside Lands: A First Timer's Take on an Eco-Friendly Gourmet Music Festival
• Outside Lands Recap 2011 at KQED Arts
• Guide to Outside Lands 2011 at KQED Arts

Jessica and Joshua Applestone's story is, by now, a familiar one. Vegetarian/vegan couple gets interested in sustainability, organics, and the implications of ethical eating. They start reading and going to farms and farmers' markets, realize that the staff (and signage) at most big food retailers--even the ones that tout their eco-friendliness--are uninformed and unreliable. Who to believe? How to make a difference? What to make for dinner?

This is where the Applestones' story veers off from the typical hipster vegan-turned-ethical omnivore trajectory. They didn't just find a meat CSA and fill their freezer with grass-fed hangar steak and pork belly destined for homemade ramen or home-cured bacon. That's what might happen now, in 2011, here in San Francisco. But this was 2004, only a couple of years after Eric Schlosser's Fast Food Nation had been published. Michael Pollan's New York Times Magazine article, Power Steer, which followed the short, unhappy life of one young, burger-destined steer in a Kansas feedlot, had just made millions of beef-eating Americans realize that most of the corn- and soy-stuffed animals they were buying had never come near a blade of grass. Grass-fed meat, what little there was of it, was hard to find, and usually available only shipped frozen from the Midwest. So what did they do? They started a butcher shop in New York's Hudson Valley selling only pasture-raised meats, a butcher shop that bought only whole animals from small farmers and ranchers they knew. Joshua, still vegan at the time they started the business, learned the butchery side, a trade plied by both his grandfather and great-grandfather. They called the shop Fleisher's Grass-Fed Organic Meats, from Joshua's family name. They got advice from dozens of retired butchers, almost all of whom told them that they were crazy, that they'd be out of business and worse, divorced, in a matter of months.

Now, some 7 years later, their business (and their marriage) is not just intact, but thriving. This fall, they're opening their second shop, in Brooklyn's Park Slope neighborhood, with a third one planned for the Upper West Side. (Take that, Zabar's!) The food culture has caught up with them, and "grass-fed" and "pasture-raised" have entered the common dialogue of more than just a few provenance-obsessed food folks. This week, Joshua and Jessica made the trek West for a series of events promoting their new book, The Butcher's Guide to Well-Raised Meat: How to Buy, Cut, and Cook Great Beef, Lamb, Pork, Poultry, and More. I caught up with them at an after-party at Bernal Heights butcher shop Avedano's, following their book-signing at nearby Omnivore Books and their on-air appearance on KQED's Forum with Avedano's butcher and co-owner Tia Harrison. (Harrison is also the chef at Sociale and a co-founder of the Butchers' Guild.)

Like a lot of New Yorkers, Jessica has a San Francisco connection; while she was raised in Long Island, her father grew up here, and she lived in the city from 1989-1991, working at the San Francisco Bay Guardian and Mercury Press before moving to Tokyo and New York City. "I miss the real foodie culture here, the diversity of ethnicities. And the Mexican food!" she said as we stood near a candlelit platter of ham. She and her husband have dubbed Kingston, NY, where they have their shop, "Park Slope North" for the number of Brooklynites from that Berkeley-ish neighborhood who spend their weekends up in their locale. Woodstock (yes, that Woodstock) is close by, as is New Paltz, a busy college town whose young mayor made headlines in 2004 for issuing marriage licenses and performing civic weddings for 25 same-sex couples, six years before gay marriage was legalized in New York. Without customers from these bourgeois-bohemian enclaves, she admits, much of their painstakingly sourced, meticulously cut meat wouldn't get bought, week after week. Although their learning curve was steep (says Jessica, "We didn't have a learning curve; it just went straight up from the minute we started"), their butcher shop has become, amazingly, something almost exactly what they envisioned: a source not just of meat but of community, a place where the butchers know their customers by name, and where people chat and ask questions, take classes, share recipes and swap neighborhood gossip, and in the process, use their food dollars to support a whole network of local farmers, ranchers, slaughterhouses, and more.

Their book is an unintimidating, user-friendly guide for the home cook, one who's curious about this whole whole-beast thing but doesn't yet have the chops, or the knowledge, to get busy with a boning knife. It's a primer on primals, the "big cuts" that well-trained butchers break down into the more familiar chops, ribs, sirloins and roasts. This is no encyclopedia of meats; the type is big, there are lots of chatty sidebars and plenty of weekday-dinner recipes. Even if you never follow their instructions for butterflying a leg of lamb or frenching a crown roast, you can still learn a lot of useful basics to make you feel much more at home in front of a meat case. Particularly useful are the pages championing their favorite lesser-known butcher's cuts, like lamb sirloin (one of my favorites, and frequently on hand at Avedano's), the cuts that a butcher knows but rarely sells.

Jessica and Joshua Applestone. Photo by Jennifer May

While Joshua cuts the meat, Jessica talks to the customers, explaining everything from how grass-fed meat is a seasonal product to the best way to cook bacon (the details are in the book, but suffice it to say that you're probably doing it wrong. Low and slow, that's the ticket). You've probably seen the dotted-line cow or pig in a dozen cookbooks, segmented and labeled to show where the shank, loin, chuck roast or top round come from. Jessica discovered a faster way to teach customers why some cuts are tender, others tough: the dotted-line human. Just imagine yourself down on all fours, and you can feel where your tougher, working muscles are (like the shoulders, neck, and legs) and what's placid and fatty, like the belly, the back and the meat around the ribs. "I fought hard to get the human in the book!" she laughs, and while it's off-putting at first sight, it does the job. You're not likely to forget where a tenderloin comes from once you've seen it labeled right over a navel like your own.

Hard-core wanna-be butchers may find the book a little too basic for their cleaver-and-chain-mail tastes. For them, there's Ryan Farr's Whole Beast Butchery slated for publication later this fall. Farr, a butcher's butcher who started 4505 Meats, the man who made putting (artisanal) chicharrones on a (handmade) hot dog seem like the ultimate in porky deliciousness, will be offering more step-by-step photographs and specialized instruction, with no stinting on the tongues, ears, and brains. But as an introduction to being a thoughtful carnivore in the kitchen, The Butcher's Guide to Well-Raised Meat makes a fine argument for knowing your meats and knowing your butcher.

Joshua and Jessica Applestone will be participating in the Cochon 555's Heritage Fire event at Charles Krug Winery in Napa on Saturday, Aug 13. Tickets $100-$200.

The Cat in the Hat surprised the guests on the set of Check, Please! Bay Area at KQED

Check, Please! Bay Area Season 6: episode 4 airs Thursday July 28 at 7:30pm on KQED TV 9. View other airtimes and channels.

You can watch individual restaurant segments as well as view the entire episode online. The website also provides restaurant information not specified on the show, written reviews from the guests and restaurant recipes. If you have opinions on the restaurants featured please feel free to share your thoughts. This season, Leslie Sbrocco will be sharing wine tips with each episode.

The fourth episode of the season features these restaurants: Alhamra Indian & Pakistani Restaurant (San Francisco), Mandalay (San Francisco) and Café Gibraltar (Half Moon Bay).

Leslie Sbrocco: Wine Tips -- Navigating Wine Lists

Check, Please! Bay Area Season 6: episode 3 airs Thursday July 21 at 7:30pm on KQED TV 9. View other airtimes and channels.

You can watch individual restaurant segments as well as view the entire episode online. The website also provides restaurant information not specified on the show, written reviews from the guests and restaurant recipes. If you have opinions on the restaurants featured please feel free to share your thoughts. This season, Leslie Sbrocco will be sharing wine tips with each episode.

The third episode of the season features these restaurants: Grand Oaks Restaurant and Sports Lounge (Oakland), Risibisi Italian Restaurant (Petaluma) and The Elite Cafe (San Francisco).

Leslie Sbrocco: Wine Tips -- About Stemware

Fruit, glorious fruit, now is your time. The farmers' market doesn't come alive until the strawberries and cherries show up, and now with stone fruit season in full, chin-dripping swing, we have months of glory ahead. Perfect timing, then, for Plum Gorgeous, by Romney Steele, subtitled Recipes and Memories from the Orchard.

These recipes are as much inspirations as instructions, of the why-didn't-I-think-of-that variety. Once you read a description like Strawberry, Nasturium, and Cucumber Salad, Heirloom Tomatoes and Peaches with Burrata, or Honey-Baked Figs with Lavender and Wine, you almost don't need to bother with the cups and teaspoons; the idea is enough. Which is how the generous, bohemian-spirited Steele wants you to cook, anyway. Get the adorable but steely-hearted Miette bakery cookbook for your Louboutin-wearing, alpha-domme gal-pal, the one with the pink KitchenAid mixer, unchippable nails and spotless counters. Plum Gorgeous is a little more messy, much more colorful and a lot more forgiving. Starting with great fruit, it would be pretty hard to screw up any of these unfussy, casually delicious dishes, both sweet and savory, all seasoned with a dash of whimsy. The chapters follow the fruit of California's seasons: winter's citrus, spring's berries, the stone fruits of summer and the figs, apples, quinces, grapes, and pears of autumn.

Strawberry, Nasturtium, and Cucumber Salad. Photo: Sara Remington

Leafing through the book, it’s impossible not to be charmed at first sight. Read it cover to cover, though, from chirpy, service-y headnotes to poetic musings, and you might see how the whole thing risks falling into the sugar-coated, envy-making genre I'd call how nice for you. In her previous book, My Nepenthe, Steele told the story of her grandparents, the founders of Big Sur's fabled restaurant Nepenthe, and her family's involvement with the place through the decades. She alluded, gracefully and with the lightest of touches, to the challenges and complications of combining business, family, and the coastal counterculturalism of the 60s and 70s. Here, though, there's almost nothing but sweetness. Not every cookbook needs to be a memoir, especially not one whose ostensible purpose is simply fruit and fun. But without revealing a real story, a backbone of truth, writing that's aiming for a romantic, color-drenched poetry of the senses can end up reading like advertising copy, breathless and aspirational.

The photographs, by Sara Remington (who also shot My Nepenthe), are absolutely gorgeous, ravishingly styled and lit to look perfectly effortless. I wanted to live in the place captured by these photographs, and I also wanted to know if the cute skirt and candy-colored wellies on page 15 came in my size, and if there was express-shipping for polka-dot red dress blowing in the breeze on page 106. Was this a cookbook, or the latest Anthropologie catalog? The more Steele pushes the poetry of the idyllic years she spent raising two children in a mountainside cottage, surrounded by fog, flowers, and fruit trees, the more the reader notices how much she's assiduously sponged out. No sharp edges, no stress, just children spooned in the same bed "warm and tender like new-rising bread." Whispers run throughout: a murmur of returning home to Big Sur both "discontent and comforted by the coziness of home," of “closeness being at once beautiful and a challenge, heartbreaking and poetic.” But what happened? How did she end up, presumably a single mother, in that tiny house? A little more heartbreak explained might have balanced all that honey.

Kumquats and Toasted Couscous with Halloumi. Photo: Sara Remington

Maybe I'm just being crabby, envious of those azure Big Sur mornings and her memories of baking tarts surrounded by the lemon-yellow walls of Henry Miller's kitchen. Or perhaps it was too many lines like this one: "By this time we were drinking wine and nibbling on the last of the kumquat and couscous salad—just photographed for the book—under the shade of a grapefruit tree in the garden as the sun went down, and lavishing spoonfuls of rose petal jam onto toast with runny cheese for dessert." Well, how nice for you. This is the sort of thing that can take a lot of Raspberry Ratafia to swallow. Honestly, I could deal with the grapefruit tree, the sunset, even the kumquats. But did the jam really have to be "lavished?" Wasn’t a spoonful enough?

Of course, no one’s buying cookbook-memoirs called My Trip to Safeway for Another Box of Annie’s Cheddar Bunnies. Every book like this, however based in real experience, is packaging a fantasy where the grapefruit trees are shady, the jam lavishly spread, and the kumquat salad always ready for its close-up. So enjoy the view, whip up the Rhubarb Mustard, Buttermilk Panna Cotta with Moscato Apricots, Plum Blackberry Sorbet, or Tomato-Grape Ricotta Flatbread, and imagine you’re in a cottage overlooking Big Sur. Now where I can find that perfect polka-dot dress?

Plum Blackberry Sorbet. Photo: Sara Remington